


How To Care For Your Self-Destructive Roommate, a guide by Dean Winchester

by Elisexyz



Series: How to coexist peacefully (mostly) – Dean and Michael  are roommates AU [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe- No Supernatural, Bromance, Eating Disorders, Gen, No Slash, weird friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-27
Updated: 2017-07-27
Packaged: 2018-12-06 07:54:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11596284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elisexyz/pseuds/Elisexyz
Summary: Dean is a big brother raised by a single father, he’s used to taking care of people and having responsibilities on his shoulders. Nevertheless, he didn’t sign up to babysit a crazy idiot who literally forgets that he’s supposed to eat and sleep to, you know,survive.Or the AU in which Dean and Michael are roommates and somehow manage to make it work.





	How To Care For Your Self-Destructive Roommate, a guide by Dean Winchester

**Author's Note:**

> I just have... A lot of feelings and ideas for this AU. I don't exactly know where this came from, actually. I had a lot of drafts about modern setting AUs to play with the incredibly high number of characters that Supernatural offers, and I just picked up this one last week because it suddenly inspired me.  
>  Mmh. Michael and Dean are probably going to stay friends, btw, but never say never (and no, I don't know why I chose _them_. I wanted two characters who met just a couple of times in canon as the central relationship in all this and Michael is fun to make into a human, I guess. Plus, "one true vessel", similarities and shit).  
>  You can find me [on my Tumblr](http://heytheredeann.tumblr.com), if you want to yell at me.  
>  Well. Uh. Enjoy?

Dean can’t say that he is a _morning_ person: if it were up to him, he’d probably sleep until at the very least noon, but of course his messed-up mind doesn’t agree and it prefers to torment him with colourful and creative nightmares. Not to mention that he kinda has _stuff_ to do.

He gets up to find Michael sitting on the couch, in the same exact spot he was the previous night, even if Dean is pretty sure that the book he was reading back then is now abandoned on the couch next to him, alongside another _dozen_ of volumes.

Michael doesn’t even raise his head to acknowledge him, which is a big, giant red flag: he is usually hyper-aware of his surroundings, and he’ll at least raise his eyes for a second as if to confirm that yep, the guy who just entered the living room is exactly the only other person who lives there.

“Mike?” Dean sighs, just to get confirmation. He is ignored. Dean rubs his face with another sigh. It’s- too fucking early in the morning to deal with this shit.

Dean contemplates eating his breakfast first, then worrying about that human disaster that is his roommate – and if _Dean Winchester_ , who is anything but a self-adjusted person, thinks that you are a giant mess, there’s a problem here -, after all, he’s 90% sure that he won’t starve if he waits another half-an-hour, but he has an annoying conscience that just wouldn’t allow him to enjoy his fucking food, so…

He takes a couple of steps towards Michael, grabbing the book he’s reading and taking it away.

Michael looks as if he has just been slapped and carried back into reality. “What the hell, Dean?” he asks, as soon as he regains the ability to speak.

“When was the last time you ate?” Dean asks, raising his eyebrows. He realises that he is using the pissed-John-Winchester-tone. He hopes it’s as effective as the original.

“Sorry, Mom, I didn’t think I had to report to you,” Michael replies, trying to get back his book. Dean keeps it out of reach.

“Well, when I came home yesterday you were exactly where you are now, and since you are an idiot you probably didn’t eat anything in my absence, so I’ll assume that the last time was- the day before yesterday at dinner?” Dean guesses. Michael’s face is usually an unreadable mask of weirdness, either completely blank or complete with an enigmatic grin – usually at the most inappropriate times. Still, sometimes there are split seconds that betray an emotion, and Dean is learning to pick up on them. Right now, he has picked up on a micro-expression that says ‘ _busted’_. Which is admittedly satisfying to watch.

“I _forgot_ ,” Michael protests. “If I didn’t remember, it wasn’t _necessary_ -”

“Oh, sure, man, you don’t need to _eat_ to live,” Dean scoffs. If he was smarter, he’d probably start looking for a sane roommate, for a change. “Get your ass in the kitchen and let’s have breakfast.”

“I’m not-”

“Don’t care,” Dean interrupts, dropping the book on the coffee table and grabbing Michael’s arm instead, pulling him up.

“I swear, you are the most annoying living creature-” Michael mumbles, shooting him death-glares that would probably have some effect on someone who didn’t grow up with an ex-marine whose you-fucked-up face is in the top five of the most terrifying things in the world. “I have to finish my research-”

“Spoiler alert: your books aren’t going anywhere,” Dean says, sharply. “You, on the other hand, will end up in a hospital bed if you don’t eat something.” How exactly he’s still standing and talking, is a mystery to Dean. He can’t go three hours without wanting to eat a snack. And yes, Michael doesn’t eat much to begin with, but _still_.

Dean cooks some eggs and feeds him cereals in the meantime. He even makes sure to make him eat some fruit, Sam would be proud- Yeah, no, not thinking about Sam right now.

“And now, off to sleep,” Dean announces. He’s met with a raised eyebrow and a stern look.

“I humoured you with breakfast, but I’m _not_ dropping everything to sleep, I just pulled an all-nighter,” Michael announces. Alright, Dean can be flexible on this: an all-nighter has never killed anyone.

“Okay,” he sighs. “But tonight you sleep.”

“Are you going to tuck me in?” Michael asks. If he wasn’t so annoyed by him right now, Dean would take a second to appreciate how glorious his straight face is when he’s being ironic. But he _is_ annoyed, so…

“Shut up and go back to your precious books.”

“It’s so _sweet_ how you worry,” Michael teases. “You’d make a perfect mommy.”

“I don’t- Oh, fuck it,” Dean mumbles. “You are an idiot but you pay half of my rent, so _stay alive_.”

“Eating is overrated. Like sleep. And _emotions_ ,” Michael reflects, and Dean can’t help rolling his eyes. He won’t listen to another one of his weird-ass speeches about the stupidity of the human error, the risks of compassion and the illusion of free will.

“Yeah, yeah, you are a true misanthrope, I know,” Dean replies, heading towards the room to get dressed. Maybe he should move to Los Angeles with Benny: at the very least his old roommate was – mostly – sane.

 

-

If Dean thought that Michael would just go to sleep that night, he was obviously mistaken. The guy can never make things easy, can he?

“It’s midnight,” Dean points out.

At least, this time he manages to get Michael’s attention without taking the book away from his hands.

“I am aware,” he replies.

Dean scoffs, rolling his eyes, mildly concerned that all this rolling will result in his eyes getting stuck in the back of his head or something. There was a kid that went to kindergarten with Sam who went around saying that his mommy had told him that rolling his eyes would result in them getting stuck and him becoming blind. Which resulted in Sam throwing a fit when he saw Dad rolling his eyes.

“You should go to sleep,” Dean insists. “You promised, remember?”

“I didn’t _promise_ anything,” Michael corrects, and yeah, he didn’t, but it was worth a try. “And I wasn’t aware I had a curfew.”

“You do today,” Dean replies. “Don’t make me take all that geek stuff away.”

Michael takes a sharp breath raising his eyes on Dean. He looks pissed. Cold and detached in that way he does when he wants to be left alone and he’s willing to rip you to shreds to get things to go his way. “Dean,” he says. “you concern is heart-warming and much appreciated.” Yeah, sure, bullshit. “But unnecessary.” Michael pauses, as if for dramatic effect. Which Dean wouldn’t put past him, actually. “I can take care of myself, and right now I wish to concentrate on my research and my research only.”

Dean scoffs. “Take care of yourself? You forgot to eat for like- _two_ days.”

“Dean,” Michael warns, and yeah, that’s the leave-me-the-fuck-alone tone right there, but Dean is not going to let this go.

“No, don’t ‘Dean’ me, I’m going to force you to eat sleeping pills if you don’t go to bed right now. You are going to collapse, man, don’t be stupid,” he lectures, because that’s not normal and he’s not going to stand by and watch when he can help.

“I won’t go to sleep,” Michael insists. “I’ll finish this, and then we’ll see.”

Dean takes a step forward, ready to take the book away once again, but this time Michael is ready and he doesn’t let him.

“Mike, come on-”

“No,” Michael insists. “You are not my parent, nor my sibling, you are a nobody and you are not going to tell me what to do.”

Dean feels rage burning his stomach, because he’s basically the only one who gives two shits about this idiot in front of him and he has the nerve- well, fuck him.

“Oh yeah?” he replies. “I may not be your parent or sibling, but if you have it your way and you end up in a hospital, who’s gonna give a crap? Your _dad_? Your _brother_?”

For a second, there’s hurt on Michael’s face. Which is- shitty. Because Michael doesn’t do _hurt_ , at least not when he’s sober, and Dean is the one who caused it. Shit.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles. “I didn’t- It was over the line.”

“No, you’re right,” Michael replies, tiredly. “You’re right.”

Dean stays silent, because there’s not much to say.

“You can go, I’ll see you in the morning,” Michael says, and Dean wants to scream, because this doesn’t solve anything, they are just back where they started.

“Mike, you should-”

“I don’t _want_ to sleep,” Michael cuts him off. “And research has very little to do with it. Can you go now?”

Dean sighs. “I do have sleeping pills,” he offers. “Whatever it is, not sleeping won’t make it go away.” Which is funny coming from the king of self-medication, but standing next to Michael he almost looks well-adjusted. Almost.

Michael sighs, obviously fed up with Dean’s insistence. “I’ll take the pills,” he gives in. “But I’m not doing any therapy session with you.”

Dean immediately raises his hands defensively. “Do I look like someone who likes sappy talks?” he counters. “I’ll get you the pills.”

“Alright,” Michael mumbles, finally closing that damn book and putting them all in some sort of organized order, on the coffee table.

Dean guesses he can consider this a victory.


End file.
